Chapter Thirty-eight

Emery

''I must say that she's healing quite well,'' The doctor says, referring to the papers in his hands. Those papers are the reports according to Emma's recovering after her miscarriage and trauma—it was bad, before.

''Thank god,'' I mutter under my breath.

He looks up at me before smiling, ''This is an impressive recovery, Your Highness. Within the past couple of days, she has not been zoning out much and she has been talking, laughing, so far she's doing very well,'' He adds, making me nod my head at his statement.

It's true. Emma has been healing quite well, just like he said. She has been a little too chatty but I assume that's normal for her since she's trying hard to recover. It's a part of how she's trying to get through the pain and I understand that; I understand it, too well.

''Although, I really recommend her to rest more. Take her to places that can let her create new memories than just staying home. That can trigger back the pain,'' He continues, ''Since the incident happened there,''

The incident happened back home, it can definitely trigger back the pain. She might seem like she's going back to her normal self, recovering well and accepting but deep down, it will never be forgotten.

''I'll see what I can do. Thank you, doctor.'' I say before standing up, then, walking out of his office. Just as I walk back towards Emma's assigned room, I stop once I see her holding onto a familiar notebook as she stares onto the cover; her fingers feeling the material.

If our baby was a girl, we would've named her Alice or Edith or Frances; named after my middle name, France. Those names were discussed with mother because we wanted the perfect name for our bundle of joy. Then again, if our baby was a boy, it would've been Ernest, funny, I know. Probably Thomas, Nicholas and even Eugene—the list goes on, actually.

I knock onto the door, making her turn towards me.

''Hey,'' I say, smiling at her in which she responds back with the same smile that I've fallen in love with every single day, every single time.

''Hi,'' She replies, putting the notebook down.

It doesn't take me awhile to respond because I know that she would understand it too. No matter how painful or how hard it could be; the baby was ours.

''We should keep that,'' I refer to the notebook, ''That's a part of her or his memory, we wouldn't want to waste it. In fact, I think I'm going to frame it,'' I joke at the end which causes her to laugh as she touches it.

''You think so?'' She asks, her voice almost inaudible. If I can just look deeply into her eyes, I would be able to see the amount of sadness but then again, she's good at not showing them to me. She's strong enough.

''I know so,'' I walk towards her before grabbing onto her hand and giving it a squeeze. Emma has to know that I'll be there for her through thick and thin. It does not matter if the pain is too unbearable, I'll be there.

''I think Edith and Ernest were alright,'' She breathes, making me smile; knowing that she's referring to the names we've picked from the internet. Then again, it's kind of odd if all of the names have to begin with the letter E but it would've been great.

''Yeah? Frances was good too,'' I wink at her.

''Just because your name is France,'' She replies.

''Well, she has to be like her daddy.'' I respond, helping her by tying her hair into a messy bun. Then, I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, leaving her smiling.

''If our baby was a girl,'' She mutters.

''If our baby was a girl, she would've been the most beautiful baby that I've ever laid eyes on. You want to know why? Because she would have her mother's beautiful pair of brown eyes, cute little nose and perky pink lips. She would've been perfect,'' I wrap my arms around her waist from behind, pecking onto the side of her neck before resting my chin on her shoulder.

''She would've been too beautiful,'' She says.

''Exactly,'' I agree as I pull her closer.

I find her turning to look at me but both of my hands are still attached onto her waist, wanting to make sure that we're still close enough. All of a sudden, I find her eyes wet with tears, ''Will we be okay?'' She asks.

''Why wouldn't we be? We'll be fine, Emma. I promise you that we will be alright,'' I mutter as I lean my forehead against hers, missing the intimacy that we used to have before all of the chaos began, ''I love you, so I'll make sure that we will be alright. No matter what,''

''It's just that—'' I cut her off.

''No, there's nothing wrong with us. Don't,'' I say.

All she needs is a little bit of strength, hope and love. Then, she'll be on her own feet, living for the best. She doesn't need anyone to support her because she can support herself but she needs someone to value, encourage and even be there for her; that's Emma.

Strong, yet weak at the same time.

We'll be fine. That's what I've been saying in my head, over and over again so that I would be able to accept the fact that this life is not perfect. It never will be perfect. Some people will come and ruin things for us, we just have to be strong, we just have to face this.

There's no 'I quit' button in life because that quit button leads to a permanent solution, death. If death occurs, then, there was no point of living in the first place because we had given up on it from the very beginning before it all started to fall and crumble.

Maybe both of us just needed to fall once, we needed to cry and show our weakness before we can actually stand up stronger than ever. We just need that. Then, we will probably be fine. No more crying, pain.

This is just the beginning of our lives.

Some people are going through much worst than us; so, we should at least be a little thankful. A little.

As soon as we've arrived home, we are greeted by Evelyn, mother, Andrea and the rest of the people here. Mostly the workers but they're like a family to me; most of them have been working before I was even born. So, they've fully gained my family's trust.

''I'm glad you're all better,'' Mother hugs her, tightly.

Emma smiles, returning the hug as she looks at the amount of people surrounding her. She has been the talk of the palace ever since what happened; people here knows about her personality and how she's actually a very good person, a very good future queen.

They stand with her. We all stand with her.

It's better to be one, as a team.

Andrea has his arm around Evelyn's waist before pecking onto her temple, which makes me realise that I've never come to notice their intimacy before. They seem utterly comfortable around one another even though I barely see them locking lips yet I'm sure they've passed that phase already, by the looks of it now.

''Since Emma's all healthy and home, we shall have a magnificent dinner,'' Mother interrupts, ''All of us,''

Magnificent dinner, huh? Haven't heard of that in awhile because father was the one who would usually say something like that—besides, he loves food. Just like any of us, obviously. Magnificent lunch, dinner, name it.

''I'd love that,'' Emma replies, nodding.

''Of course. It's all set. Let's go,'' Mother says.

I grab Emma by the waist as she snuggles closer towards me, smiling up as she does so. We walk side by side with the others, making our way towards the dining hall.

It's quite hard trying to get used to seeing her flat stomach again; since I was used to seeing her stomach grow for the past few weeks, it'll take some time. For now, I wouldn't want to get into that subject because I know that it's a little too sensitive.

''I kind of miss this,'' I say as I look up at my mother, seeing her smiling at me before grabbing onto my hand

''I kind of miss this,'' I say as I look up at my mother, seeing her smiling at me before grabbing onto my hand. Her warm hand eases the coldness of my own.

Emma and I sit beside each other and as she tries to scoop her own dishes, one of the maids come to help her out but Emma will always be the same Emma, she denies gracefully as she wants to do it herself.

Then again, I might as well do it for her.

It surprises her at my sudden action, seeing myself taking a few slices of chicken before putting it onto her plate and slowly pouring some barbecue sauce. It may seem like a simple gesture but most of the time, I don't get to take food for others.

My action surprises Evelyn and mother, as well.

Yet, they just smile. Knowing that I've changed.

''Here's your favourite,'' I mutter under my breath as I take a big spoonful of nicely-served lasagna. The chicken lasagna has always been her fav; as she once told me. She swore by to never mind eating it for the rest of her life, that showed how much she loves it.

''I can take it myself, you know,'' She breathes.

''Of course. I know that. I just want to do it for you,'' I respond with a smile, eyeing her facial expression. She smiles back, only letting me help her. Once I'm done, I pick up her spoon before trying to feed her.

Her eyes widen, gesturing for me to stop but I tend to just ignore her and continue to slowly move the spoon forward towards her mouth. She rolls her eyes but she ends up eating it anyway; leaving me chuckle.

''You deserve being treated like a princess, once in awhile, don't you think?'' I ask, picking up the fork to feed her the sliced chicken. She continues to chew as she shrugs, but she doesn't seem to deny it.

''There ya go,'' I grin at the cuteness of her smile.

''Let me do the same for you,'' She replies.

My eyebrows furrow but before I can question, she has already picked up my spoon to feed me. I turn to look at my mother and my sister who quickly look away as soon as they saw me glancing. Without further ado, I just open my mouth to let Emma feed me.

We may seem like cheesy couples but hey, why not.

''There's a little smudge here,'' She looks down at my lips before wiping the side with her thumb. I continue to stare deeply into her eyes; knowing that, a slight movement of hers can make me fall into a trance.

We've done this before, in New York.

That was our little gesture but it was something.

''Remember New York?'' I ask.

She pulls back a little, ''How can I forget? You liked the food in my restaurant judging by your facial expressions so yes, of course I remember,'' She replies, joking.

''We should go there sometimes,'' I mutter.

''Really?'' She raises an eyebrow, hope filling in her eyes because I know just how much she misses her home. She misses the city she grew up in, she misses the noises of taxi drives honking as they drove. It's all clear.

''Really,'' I run my thumb on the side of her cheek.

''That'd be great. I'd like that,'' She chuckles.